


bar mirror

by bluelines



Category: Women's Hockey RPF
Genre: Bartender AU, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-09 22:50:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10423554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluelines/pseuds/bluelines
Summary: Kacey keeps bringing her blind dates to the same bar, and for good reason.





	

**Author's Note:**

> title from the song of the same name by benjy davis!

Kacey hates blind dates.

She hates being alone more. Some days she fools herself into thinking she’s fine, but other days she remembers that she’s nearing thirty and her friends are getting engaged and she’s got a dog and a job and a social life, if barely. She wants to share her life with someone. She’s getting a little desperate. That’s how Brianna ends up taking pity on her and setting her up.

That’s how she ends up at a bar she’s never been to before--rare for her, on this side of town, but it’s new and trendy and apparently a good date spot--waiting for a girl she’s never met. 

The bartender comes up to her immediately, and Kacey looks up from her phone to be blindsided by a pleasant, dimpled smile and very blue eyes. 

“Hey there,” the other woman says, “anything I can get you?”

“Oh,” Kacey says, “um, I’ll start with a water, I’m...waiting for someone.”

“First date?” she asks, filling a water, and Kacey watches her work, trying to keep her heart rate in the realm of normal. She hates this. She wants to know what Brianna told this girl about her.

“Yeah,” Kacey says, “uh, kind of. Blind date.”

“Ah,” is the response she gets, “well, I’m Meghan. Let me know if you need anything.”

Kacey takes a sip of her water and rubs her forehead. She still has five minutes before the girl--Ally--is supposed to arrive, but the panic is taking over and she almost wants to bail, make up some disaster so that she can go home. 

- 

“We get a lot of first dates,” Meghan says conversationally, wiping down the bar. There’s a couple at the other end, but that’s it; the restaurant portion of the place is busier. It’s a Tuesday night. Kind of a weird night to get drinks.

“Yeah,” Kacey says, “this place was recommended to me as a good date night place, so...I mean, I don’t know her, but it seemed like a safe bet.”

Meghan raises an eyebrow. It’s brief, but Kacey catches it, and she wonders what it means. She can’t imagine it’s a surprise that she’s not straight, but that’s probably because _she’s_ known for so long that she just assumes it’s obvious to everyone else. She can’t decide if she thinks Meghan’s straight or not. It seems like she could go either way. She’s very carefully neutral when she says, “Well, I might be biased, but I’d have to say it’s a good choice. I make a mean cocktail.”

“I’m a beer drinker mostly,” Kacey offers, and Meghan purses her lips.

“That’s less fun,” she replies, “but I can do that, too.”

“Any recommendations?” Kacey asks, and Meghan thinks about it, chewing her lip. She leans on the bar with one elbow. Kacey checks her watch again.

“Beer is gross,” Meghan says, “in my opinion, but there’s a Cisco Brewers ale that’s pretty popular here.”

“Wow,” Kacey says, grinning, “can you say that?”

“It’s my bar,” Meghan says, “I can say what I want.”

“I’ll try it,” Kacey says, even though she doesn’t like ales. Meghan has just finished pouring it when Ally appears and Kacey had to try to remember how dating works. She’s cute, but Kacey thought Brianna knew her better than to try to put her on a date with someone who’s gluten-free and doesn’t like dogs.

She can tell it’s not going to go anywhere. They make conversation just fine, but nothing’s exciting or interesting to her, and she ends up wondering how long she needs to do this before she can reasonably go home. Ally goes to the bathroom an hour in and Meghan leans onto the bar.

“So,” she says, “what do you think?”

“I don’t know,” Kacey says, because it’s probably weird to tell Meghan what she _does_ think.

“She doesn’t seem like your type,” Meghan says, and Kacey looks up, startled. Meghan reaches for Kacey’s empty glass.

“Another?” she asks, and Kacey nods, blinking, trying to get her bearings. 

“Um,” she says, “how do you know my type?”

“I don’t,” Meghan says, topping off the glass and sliding it back with a new napkin, “but you just confirmed that she’s not it.”

Kacey sighs. She offers to drive Ally home later, when it’s clear that they’re done, but the second she sees the very careful smile on Ally’s face she knows she’s not going to do it. No, thank you, and she’s sitting alone at the bar debating texting Brianna to tell her what a disaster it was. It’s embarrassing. She was never good at this. 

She tips Meghan 30%.

-

She picks the same bar.

It’s partially just because she likes the bar. There’s something about going somewhere she knows but not somewhere she knows well enough to be a regular. Meghan is there when she walks in, and Kacey wonders about it, whether there are other bartenders--there must be--or she just picked Meghan’s shift again without meaning to. She goes back to her seat from before, and Meghan doesn’t notice her right away. She’s smiling and joking with one of the waiters who’s come behind the bar to get something, and when she turns and sees Kacey, her expression changes. 

She’s still smiling, but something is different. Kacey’s not sure what it is, but she’s curious about it for as long as it takes for Meghan to come to her.

“Well hey,” Meghan says, “you never told me your name.”

“It was on my tab,” Kacey says, and Meghan grins, ducking her chin.

“So it was,” she says, “with a very nice tip, thank you for that, Kacey.”

“You’re welcome,” Kacey says, clearing her throat, but it feels like the wrong thing to say.

“So,” Meghan says, tucking her braid behind her shoulder, “can I get you anything?”

“Mixed drinks are flirty, right?” Kacey asks, and Meghan’s eyebrows shoot up. Her smile turns mischievous and Kacey rushes to finish: “I have another date and I think the beer ruined the first one.”

“Don’t blame my beer,” Meghan mumbles, and then more clearly, “mixed drinks are flirty. What do you want?”

“I don’t know,” Kacey says, “liquor is gross.”

“I’ll make you something sweet,” Meghan says, “it’ll taste like candy.”

“Deal,” Kacey says, and watches Meghan mix her drink. 

-

Kacey has never been stood up before.

It’s always occurred to her as something that happens in romcoms but not to actual people in real life, so she doesn’t realize that’s what’s happening to her right away. She assumes the girl is running late, so she doesn’t text at first, doesn’t want to be rude, just nurses her drink until she realizes that Meghan’s giving her a look that seems distinctly sympathetic.

“You want something to eat?” Meghan asks, “chili fries or something?”

“I was gonna wait to order,” Kacey says, “I think my date’s stuck in traffic or something.”

“Ah,” Meghan says, in a way that suggests she knows better. “Well,” she continues, “you know where to find me.”

She doesn’t come back over for a while. Kacey checks her phone, then her watch, then her phone again. She finally caves and sends a text, but she gets the three little blinking dots that say a reply is coming, and then no reply at all. When she looks up from her phone again, Meghan is standing across from her, resting her folded arms on the bar.

“Chili fries?” she asks, and Kacey sighs, resigned.

They’re better than she expected. She’s not sure what the protocol for this is, but she expects that she’s supposed to go home. The last thing Kacey wants is to go home to her empty apartment, and she knows that Brianna will want an update soon, but admitting she’d been stood up isn’t something Kacey is keen on doing. 

Instead of doing anything else, she watches Meghan work the bar. There’s a pair of men on the other end who are competing for her attention, and it’s a little bit funny how Meghan plays them, sometimes laughing at one of their jokes while she tops off the other guy’s drink without looking, tucking her hair behind her ear. When she moves to the couple at the center of the bar her entire attitude changes, and Kacey’s fascinated. Meghan’s polite and friendly, asking them questions, complementing the girl’s engagement ring, which Kacey hadn’t even noticed.

By the time Meghan makes her way back to Kacey, she can’t help but wonder what Meghan has pegged as _her_ thing.

Her thing is probably that she’s a lonely, stood-up, washed-up lesbian, which really isn’t hard to cater to, all things considered.

“You’re good at this,” Kacey says, “like, really good. Probably the best bartender I’ve ever seen.”

“You flatter me,” Meghan says, twisting her braid over her shoulder. Kacey glances at the two men, one of whom is watching them. Meghan smiles at him and Kacey has to hide a laugh in her shoulder at the look on his face.

“Please,” Meghan says more quietly, “men are easy. Sloppy. They never stop to wonder if they’re barking up the wrong tree, all you have to do is smile at them a couple times and they’ll tip half their bill.”

“I tip well,” Kacey offers lamely, and Meghan turns to smile at her instead. Kacey can see in her mind that she’s making the same face that the guy had two seconds ago, but she can’t stop herself. She’s burning with curiosity now.

“You do,” Meghan agrees, “thank you.”

Kacey, watching Meghan tend the bar again, tries to decide if it’s reasonable that Meghan could be gay. It seems reasonable to her. Meghan’s nails are painted but trimmed conspicuously short, and the way she flirts with men seems purposeful, not quite natural. She can’t imagine Meghan with one of those guys, but she knows she shouldn’t really be thinking about it at all. It doesn’t matter if Meghan’s gay or not. She shouldn’t care. The thing is, she’s two beers and a plate of chili fries into her night, and the stool next to her is still empty, and Meghan’s being nice to her. She’s not hard to please.

She stops drinking after the third beer. She makes small talk with people around her, but she puts off leaving, because every time she remembers her empty apartment and her phone buzzing with unanswered texts from Brianna, she gets so upset that she can feel it in the back of her throat. 

Eventually the bar starts to empty out. Kacey doesn’t even realize how late it is until she finally checks her phone again and answers Brianna to let her know she’s still alive, but then it was an after-dinner drinks date to begin with, so she shouldn’t be so surprised.

“Last call,” Meghan says, but Kacey’s the only one left at the bar, watching the last pair of couples leave.

“Just the check,” Kacey mumbles.

“Okay,” Meghan says, but before she can turn away Kacey changes her mind.

“Wait,” she says, “I need a shot. Just--something--anything, surprise me.”

“You sure?” Meghan asks, and Kacey frowns at her.

“I’m sober,” she says, and Meghan bites her lips, holding back a laugh.

“I know,” she says, “that’s why I’m asking if you’re sure.”

Meghan pours one, and then another, and Kacey blinks at what gets placed in front of her. It definitely has vodka in it, but she’s not sure, otherwise. 

“I just wanted one,” she points out.

“Yeah,” Meghan says, placing the other in front of herself, “I’m doing it with you. It’s a Mind Eraser.”

“Cute,” Kacey says, “no drinking on the job.”

“Technically,” Meghan says, checking her watch, “I’m not on the job.”

So Kacey agrees. She’s watching Meghan, though, and watching Meghan pound a shot back without wincing is a lot. Kacey’s a little too fixated on Meghan’s forearm, on how big her hand looks around that shot glass, a little woozy from her own shot and not being particularly subtle.

She figures, if she’s wrong, she won’t be the first person to bark up the wrong tree tonight.

“You want to get out of here?” she asks in a rush, and immediately regrets opening her mouth. Meghan’s off shift, so she’s got to want to ‘get out of here’. Resisting the urge to break eye contact takes all of Kacey’s willpower, so that when Meghan’s smile falters and the look in her eyes changes, Kacey’s not sure she has the brainpower to interpret it.

“Yes,” is all that Meghan says. 

-

Kacey can’t keep up. Her brain had more or less stopped functioning as soon as Meghan had come around from behind the bar. They take the T, and Kacey ends up between Meghan and the window for two stops, completely unsure what to do or what to say. This isn’t the sexy part, the part anyone ever talks about, and she’s a little lost, clasping her hands in her lap.

“Sorry you got stood up,” Meghan says gently, and Kacey blinks at her.

“Uh,” she says, “it’s okay. I probably wouldn’t have liked her much anyway.”

“Why not?” Meghan asks, and Kacey shrugs.

“I haven’t liked much of anyone lately,” she admits, and it’s the truth. Nothing has clicked and she’s not sure why, but it terrifies her, which is something she does _not_ want Meghan to know. Some days she really believes she won’t connect with anyone again, like she’s had her chance and lost it, but that’s not for Meghan to think about. Kacey wishes she had asked for another shot. 

“Well then I’m flattered,” Meghan jokes, bumping their knees together, and Kacey offers a nervous smile. She doesn’t want Meghan to think she’s regretting this, so she keeps her knee pressed against Meghan’s even though she doesn’t have to, and when they get off the train she steers Meghan in the right direction with a hand just barely on her back. It’s surreal, watching Meghan from the other side of a bar for weeks and actually standing next to her now. Meghan’s taller than her. Meghan’s _bigger_ than her. 

Kacey turns the light on in her kitchen and turns to Meghan, licking her lips, which are suddenly dry. Meghan is usually hard to read, but now Kacey’s pretty sure she knows what Meghan wants. She steps closer, shedding her jacket, and Meghan takes hers off, too. Meghan’s eyes drop to her lips and Kacey’s stomach flips. Going from wondering if Meghan was straight to this in a matter of hours is more than a little bit disorienting, but she’s not complaining. The way Meghan is looking at her, she can’t even imagine how she had been confused in the first place.

Meghan is the one to initiate the kiss. It takes Kacey a second to get her bearings, but when she does she reacts immediately, kissing Meghan back and reaching for her shoulders. Meghan’s hands are on her waist, and Kacey presses closer to her, somehow not at all surprised by how soft Meghan’s lips are. It’s a careful kiss at first, both of them trying to figure out how this is going to work, but as soon as they’re comfortable the kiss grows messy and desperate. Kacey has to pull away to breathe first, and Meghan takes a step back.

The second that Meghan pulls her shirt over her head, all of the blood rushes from Kacey’s head to her feet.

Meghan’s bra is cute, but Kacey wants it gone. When she’s able to stop looking at it she realizes that Meghan is much more muscular than she expected, and when she looks back up into Meghan’s face she’s met with a smirk that’s not unfriendly.

“Are you a crossfit champion or something?” Kacey asks hoarsely, recognizing it as the half-assed chirp it is.

“Fuck no,” Meghan says, and the profanity makes Kacey’s knees a little weak.

“It’s bad for you,” Meghan says, reaching for Kacey. She tucks her index finger just inside the hem of Kacey’s jeans, behind the button, and pulls Kacey to her. “I teach free weight classes,” she says, her eyes on Kacey’s lips again, “I can teach you, if you want.”

“Well, actually,” Kacey manages, her fingertips fluttering over Meghan’s sides, “I play hockey, so I think I’m okay.”

Meghan blinks. Kacey doesn’t have a lot of time to think before Meghan has backed her against her kitchen counter. She gasps, reaching for the edge of the counter, and Meghan pulls at her shirt, working at the buttons feverishly. Meghan wanting her like that--bad enough to pop a button--makes Kacey glad she has the counter to lean against.

Meghan pushes Kacey’s shirt over her shoulders and stares. 

“You never mentioned,” Meghan says. Kacey places a hand on Meghan’s lower back, picking out a beauty mark on Meghan’s neck and wondering how Meghan feels about hickeys. 

“I wasn’t trying to pick you up,” Kacey says, but she’s not really thinking about it.

“Could have fooled me,” Meghan says, and bears down on Kacey’s neck. Kacey wraps an arm around Meghan’s shoulders, letting herself melt against the counter for a few seconds, and when Meghan pulls back to look again Kacey takes it as an invitation to move things forward.

She pushes past Meghan and kicks her shoes off. Meghan does the same and follows her, but in her doorway Meghan pins her again. Kacey gasps when Meghan works a thigh between her legs, but she doesn’t stop herself from rocking against it. She couldn’t if she tried, and she can tell that Meghan doesn’t want her to. Meghan wants her to be a mess, and that takes no work for Kacey, not after a months-long dry spell and the insistent heat of Meghan’s lips and tongue against her skin.

“You gotta take your pants off,” Meghan says when she steps back, and Kacey laughs breathlessly, reaching down for the button of her jeans.

“Can’t do it yourself?” she asks, and Meghan shimmies out of her own jeans, pulling her hair up into a bun.

“Better things to do,” Meghan says simply, and Kacey almost trips in her haste to get her own jeans actually off. Meghan looks her up and down, and Kacey’s on fire, still reeling on from the realization, the _continuous_ realization, that Meghan wants her. Kacey is tired of standing still, so she moves to Meghan, and surprises even herself when she pushes Meghan back until she topples onto the bed.

Kacey clambers on top of her and Meghan laughs against her mouth, dropping her hands to Kacey’s hips and pulling them into her own. The kiss goes back to being messy and desperate then, their teeth knocking when Kacey tries to straddle Meghan more comfortably. Meghan sits up and Kacey gasps, no longer in control of the situation, rocking in Meghan’s lap.

“Fuck,” she mumbles, and Meghan laughs again. This time it’s a deeper, hoarser laugh, a laugh that tapers off when Meghan’s lips hit Kacey’s throat again, and Kacey wants her more than she can remember wanting anything in ages. It terrifies her for a second, for long enough for Meghan to notice her hesitation and stop kissing her neck, which isn’t what Kacey wanted.

When Meghan tips her head back to make eye contact, Kacey is immediately comforted. This is fun--it’s supposed to be, and Kacey feels like it really _can_ be, with Meghan, like this. Wanting it is all part of the fun.

“Could have saved you a lot of money on drinks if you had told me you were a pro athlete weeks ago,” Meghan murmurs, reaching around behind Kacey’s back to flick open the clasp of her bra.

“We’re only doing this because I play hockey?” Kacey replies, shrugging the straps over her shoulders. Meghan grins, cupping Kacey’s breasts and leaning in to make a mark below her jaw. Kacey claws blindly at Meghan’s shoulders, gasping, and Meghan makes sure she’s made her point before she speaks again while Kacey arches into her hands.

“I didn’t know you were when you asked me here,” she points out, but Kacey doesn’t have enough blood left in her brain to process words anymore.

She manages to get Meghan’s bra off before Meghan slides a hand down the front of her underwear. They’re not joking anymore. Meghan seems surprised that Kacey wants her so badly, because she gasps against Kacey’s throat, and Kacey clings to her, holding her breath. That only lasts as long as it takes for Meghan to start touching her more purposefully. She steadies Kacey with her other arm around Kacey’s waist, and Kacey holds onto Meghan’s shoulder with one hand. She gets her other hand into Meghan’s hair, and Meghan likes that. It’s obvious, because she shivers, turning her head so that she can kiss Kacey, who can’t quite keep up.

What she can do is rock down against Meghan’s fingers, and she does, breaking off the kiss. She’s panting, trying to focus, trying to keep it together, her mouth by Meghan’s ear. She ends up tugging on Meghan’s hair, not on purpose but to anchor herself, and the response from Meghan is too much. Meghan’s arm tightens around her, and the moment that Meghan groans Kacey is gone, shuddering in Meghan’s lap. 

“Jesus Christ,” Kacey manages, dropping her chin to Meghan’s shoulder. She’s still shaking, and Meghan doesn’t take her hand away quite yet. When she does, Kacey groans again, and Meghan smiles. She reaches up with one hand to tug Kacey’s hair out of its ponytail. Kacey’s legs and abs are aching and tired, but she pushes at Meghan’s shoulders anyway until Meghan falls back against the mattress. The stretch she gets when she lays against Meghan, hip to hip, their legs intertwined, is more than welcome. The kiss is even better, slow and messy and dirty, and Kacey is done being scared.

She slides her hand down along Meghan’s stomach, and this time it’s Meghan who’s breathing hard, pulling at the sheets. Kacey wishes Meghan would tug at her hair instead. She knows she’ll have a mark where Meghan got her earlier, and she decides to return the favor, picking out a spot just above Meghan’s collarbone and sucking hard until Meghan’s writhing under her, reaching up with one hand to claw at Kacey’s upper back. 

Kacey looks up, catching the best view of the night so far--Meghan’s open mouth, lips swollen from biting them, chest heaving, the bruise that Kacey left growing darker with every second. Meghan’s hand leaves her skin in the hesitation, and Kacey doesn’t like that. She knows how to fix it.

She has her mouth back on Meghan’s skin in seconds, this time on her stomach, moving purposefully south.

“Shit,” Meghan breathes, and Kacey looks up, stopping just short of Meghan’s hipbone. She needs to make sure that’s not an indication to stop, but Meghan reaches down, sliding a hand into Kacey’s hair like they’ve been doing this for months. Kacey is struck by that for a moment, by how utterly comfortable they are like this, and then she stops trying to think. 

She slides back along the bed and gently bites Meghan’s inner thigh. Meghan’s hand tightens in Kacey’s hair, her nails scraping against Kacey’s scalp, and Kacey gives her what she’s asking for. Meghan gasps, arching off of the bed and digging her heels in. It takes both of Kacey’s hands on Meghan’s hips to hold her in place, and she loves that, loves that Meghan is vocal and active. Meghan’s hands in her hair are the best part, because she’s stopped pulling. 

She pushes Kacey’s hair out of her face, and Kacey looks up, keeping her mouth busy. Meghan is watching her, and it’s startlingly intimate in a way that sends a shock down Kacey’s spine. Kacey groans, caught by surprise just from the way Meghan is looking at her, and Meghan’s eyes flutter in the second before she tosses her head back. 

Kacey doesn’t stop until her jaw is aching and Meghan is mostly still. Her knees are still trembling when Kacey sits up again, leaning back to sit on her heels, and she still can’t believe that it’s Meghan sprawled out naked on her bed. Meghan laughs as if she knows, tossing her arm over her face.

“Holy shit,” she murmurs, and Kacey can’t help but be a little bit flattered.

“I could keep going,” Kacey jokes, but she’s not _really_ joking. “Endurance of a pro athlete.”

Meghan opens her eyes and really considers it. Eventually she sits up, running a hand through her hair, and Kacey gets distracted by her body again.

“It’s really late,” Meghan points out, and Kacey blinks uncomprehendingly at the alarm clock on her bedside table. She hasn’t been up this late in years. 

“Shit,” she mumbles, “sorry.”

Meghan stretches and gets gracefully to her feet. Kacey, even while having an existential crisis about what time it is, manages to be stuck on the little things, like the dip of Meghan’s lower back, the graceful shape of Meghan’s legs, calves curving into thighs, and--

“I work late,” Meghan points out, “it doesn’t bother me, but still.”

“Yeah,” Kacey says, but she’s not really paying attention. She’s so out of it that she’s shocked when Meghan slips back into her clothes, but she’s too embarrassed to say anything. It would have been weird for Meghan to stay, probably, or she would stayed. Kacey’s not sure--she doesn’t know how any of this is supposed to work--so she doesn’t bring it up. She watches Meghan get dressed, though, and there’s something weirdly erotic about watching someone put clothes _on_. 

She kind of has to wonder if she’s still a little buzzed. Meghan braids her hair before she leaves, which strikes Kacey as cute, though she’s not sure why.

“I’ll see you around?” Meghan asks, and Kacey blinks, realizing she’s still completely naked on her own bed.

“Definitely,” she says, but it seems like the wrong thing to say. 

It only occurs to her ten minutes after Meghan leaves, while she’s watching her fan cast shadows on the ceiling, that she should have asked for Meghan’s number.

-

“No offense,” Brianna says, propping her feet up on Kacey’s knees and cracking her beer open, “but it’s kinda rude to hook up with a bartender instead of a girl that I set you up with.”

“She stood me up,” Kacey says, and Brianna makes a face.

“Well, someone before that,” she says, and Kacey sighs, dropping her head back against the top of the couch.

“Just try one more,” Brianna urges her. “I think you’ll really like her.”

-

Claire is the closest Brianna has gotten to getting it right.

She’s quick and funny, tall and lean and just athletic enough for Kacey to really be interested. The thing is that she’s still not interested. She’s not disinterested. Claire is sweet, and conversation is easy enough to make, but Kacey doesn’t feel much of anything about her or the drinks or the atmosphere. Meghan is there, but she’s training someone else at the bar, a boy who looks like he’s _barely_ old enough to serve alcohol at all. 

Kacey doesn’t want to date Claire. Kacey wants to take Meghan back home with her.

She feels like an idiot for not asking Meghan to stay, for not asking for her number, and it’s compounded when she watches Meghan notice her and send the boy across the bar to wait on her and Claire. Not that she can blame Meghan for doing it.

Meghan never makes eye contact with her. Kacey spends way too long trying to make it happen, and she can tell that Claire can tell she’s not paying attention. She can feel herself being the worst date, the worst kind of girl to go out on a date with, and she doesn’t want Claire to think that she’s not interesting, but she can’t help herself. She’s never been so sure she made a mistake and less sure that it’s something she can fix.

If she can’t, she’s throwing away this opportunity with Claire, too, and Brianna will kill her. 

At the end of the night she offers to drive Claire home, and she’s a little surprised when Claire takes her up on it. She knows she should say something about seeing each other again, but she doesn’t want to fake it, so she doesn’t try to get out of the car. Claire looks like she’s thinking about leaning across the center console to kiss her cheek, but she stops just short of doing it and thanks Kacey for driving her home before she gets out of the car.

And then Kacey drives back.

-

“We’re closing,” Meghan says. She’s drying a glass and she doesn’t look up when she speaks, but she’s alone, which is more than Kacey had hoped for.

“I know,” Kacey says, and Meghan looks up, startled. She puts the glass down carefully, but she’s looking at Kacey like she’s not sure what she wants to feel yet. Kacey doesn’t sit, just takes a second, chewing her lips, before she tries to say what she’s been mulling over on the drive back. As usual what comes out is something entirely different.

“Are you hungry?”

Meghan smiles.


End file.
